


The Burrow and an Unwelcome Visitor

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: Sherlock!Wizardverse Drabbles - Drarry [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Ginny Bashing, Lots of Weasleys, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Drabbles.<br/>Harry, Draco, and their son Scorpius Mycroft are invited to the Burrow for a yuletide celebration. Draco's a bit jealous when a certain female Weasel shows up and is obviously still in love with his husband.<br/>A few days after the rather nice celebration at the Burrow, an unwelcome visitor appears at Number 12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Burrow and an Unwelcome Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Scorpius is the younger version of Mycroft Holmes.

_**The Burrow** _

            Since entering the wizarding world, Christmas had become Harry Potter’s favorite holiday. True, it was a muggle custom that the wizards had picked up to add to their more traditional Yuletide and solstice celebrations, but that didn’t matter to the Man-Who-Lived-Twice. First it was the fact that he’d finally started receiving gifts, even if they were just a few. But he also had friends and had even been all but officially adopted by the Weasleys while he was a student at Hogwarts.  
            Now he saw it as one of those times of year to spend with his own budding little family. And his time spent in Venice with the Countess Zabini and her colourful holiday feasts had thoroughly spoiled him, and in turn, his own child.  
            But this year, they were in England. They were not going to a lavish feast (as the Countess insisted it was the only way that she could see her favorite boys in their finest dress robes), but a warm and friendly Weasley function. Harry and Draco had tried to beg off, wanting to spend their first Christmas back in the country at Grimmauld Place with their son. Molly Weasley had insisted otherwise, and insisted they bring their precious little boy with them. At Draco’s protest, Harry reminded him who exactly had done away with the blond man’s sanity challenged aunt.  
            Draco readily agreed to attend, not wanting to incur the wrath of Mother Weasley.  
            And so that is how Harry, Draco, and Scorpius came to be out in the snow at the edge of the Burrow’s wards with their shrunken bag of gifts. Harry turned to tug on their child’s coat, wrapping it tighter around the boy before giving Draco a small smile. “Come on then.”  
            “Weasels,” the blond replied with a shudder. “The things I do for you.”  
            “They’re not all that bad.”  
            Soon the pair of them were within the wards and trodding down the familiar (to Harry) path to the first wizarding home the boy from the cupboard had ever seen. They had nearly reached the door when it was flung open to reveal the first of many familiar heads of red hair. One ear was scarred and damaged, and the sight of it still made Harry wince to remember how it came to be.  
            “Little brother!” George Weasley called out as the three of them came closer. Harry nearly dropped the bag of gifts when the former Gryffindor beater pulled him into a tight hug.  
            It lasted a little longer than Draco was comfortable with, and he gave a slight cough to remind both his husband and the older prankster he was there. “If you wouldn’t mind, it is rather cold…”  
            George looked past Harry’s shoulder before letting go and stepped aside. “Careful Malfoy,” he said in a warning tone. Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. It was going to be a long night, of that he was sure.  
            Draco gave only a half-hearted sneer. After all, he was supposed to be polite. A tiny voice brought his attention back to the little boy holding his hand, and he softened instantly. “How about we get you a nice warm cup of cocoa, alright?” he said before looking back at his husband, then to George.  
            His change in demeanor wasn’t lost on the Weasley. He moved aside to let them in, and indicated for them to leave their coats on. “Everyone’s in the back,” he said. “Since so many of us actually came to visit, there’s not enough room in the kitchen so dad set up a tent.”  
            “A tent?!” Draco exclaimed. “It’s freezing out there, and if you hadn’t noticed there’s snow everywhere. Scorpius will catch his death if he’s out in the cold too long. He’s not used to this climate yet, and-“  
            “Draco,” Harry said, giving him a look that seemed to calm the potions master down. “I’m sure they’ve packed it full of warming charms. Scorp will be just fine.” He addressed their son who was standing very close to his father. “Won’t you my little dragon?”  
            The boy nodded, but didn’t take his silver gaze off George. “Come on then.” Harry offered his hand, and Scorpius tentatively reached out to take it. Then instantly seemed to be glued to his side like a little limpet. Harry did his best to give George a sympathetic look before gesturing for Draco to follow.  
            They passed through the house to the back door and once more stepped outside. The tent didn’t look all that much on the outside, but they all knew it would be more spacious than it seemed. Wizarding tents always were.  
            Music and laughter emenated from the tent as George hurried ahead to pull back the curtain. Warm air wafted out from beyond, causing the two men to smile and the boy to gasp in glee. Well… it was either the warmth or the sight of a giant holiday cake across the tent.  
            They stepped in and barely had time to pull off their winter coats as George called out to the rest of the rather larger than Harry remembered Weasley clan that their last guests had arrived. Draco stared at them, blinking. “It’s like a cauldron exploded and threw red everywhere,” he said so only Harry could hear him. It earned an elbow to the ribs, but more playful than anything more.  
            Harry looked down when he felt a tug at his sleeve. Scorpius was pointing to the other children, gathered around Hermione who was charming napkins into little paper birds to amuse them. Harry nodded and the boy darted off between legs as the sea of red converged on them.  
            “Harry! Love! Come here!”  
            Draco watched as his husband was passed around like a doll. Hugged (or slapped, depending on who had grabbed him this time) within an inch of his sanity and passed on to the next. Draco was given a few weak handshakes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m not going to bite you,” he finally said when he’d been aproached by yet another fire haired Weasley.  
            Charlie laughed. “That’s not what we’re worried about,” he said.  
            “Then what-“  
            “It’s just… you know you’re, well, not the easiest person to get along with.”  
            Draco crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.  
            “That and we heard what you did to the wall at Grimmauld Place.”  
            His mask of seriousness cracked as he smiled, then gave a laugh. “Who’s been passing that around?”  
            Charlie cut his eyes over to Harry and Ron. “Did you really use the cruciatis on that old screaming picture?”  
            He nodded and let his arms fall to his sides again. “Damaged the wall, but at least we don’t have to hear her screaming at all hours of the day and night anymore.”  
            “You know you really have to want to harm someone to use it-“  
            “Of course.” He narrowed his eyes at the dragon keeper. “You do know WHY I did it, don’t you? I don’t just throw Unforgivables at inanimate objects for fun.” When he didn’t answer, Draco continued. “She screamed bigoted obscenities at our son. I was not going to allow her to continue.”  
            Draco and Charlie continued their conversation for some time, with the elder leading the blond towards a table that had been set for what seemed to be an army, but was in reality just the large family plus three.  
            Harry had finally finished speaking to Ron and was about to go check on Scorpius when he was suddenly crushed into the bosom of the Weasley matriarch. When she released him his hair was touseled far worse than normal. She hastily reached up to smooth it down for him, but he ducked under her hand with a laugh. “It’s good to see you again, too.”  
            And then she gave him a light slap on the cheek. “That’s for not inviting us to your wedding.”  
            He rubbed his cheek with an embarassed smile. “Well… We were in seclusion. Couldn’t exactly open the floo and call around.”  
            “You didn’t have to-“  
            “Mrs. Weasley, I did. And I’m really sorry I didn’t write. But if someone intercepted an owl from me, I’d have been found and then reporters would be pounding my door down. Besides, I like being able to walk down the street, or go out to the shops with my family without people trying to get my autograph.”  
            “You could have at least told us you were leaving instead of dissapearing the way you did.” Molly gave him a hard stare, but couldn’t hold it for very long. She never could stay angry at her childrens’ friend. “Well, I’m just happy you’re back home. Even if it’s not to whisk my daughter away.”  
            Harry felt his cheeks burn in embarassment. “I really **am** sorry.”  
            “I know dear. Now then, I suppose you’d better rescue your husband before someone gets the wrong idea.”  
            Harry frowned, glancing over his shoulder to see Draco across the room with Charlie. “I don’t-“  
            “Not my son you have to worry about dear,” she said, giving a slight nod in the direction of a rather annoyed looking man not much older than Harry himself. He seemed to be brooding rather spectacularly. “They haven’t been speaking all day. Has made for a rather tense atmosphere.”  
            “Who… Charlie’s?”  
            Molly laughed, patting his arm. “They were fighting over dragons again. Nicholas was forced to put one down, and Charlie thinks he should have brought him home to the sanctuary. But the poor creature would never have survived the night.” She shook his head and gave him a gentle shove. “Go make sure Draco doesn’t get hexed dear. We’ll be eating shortly.”  
            “Are we still waiting for someone?”  
            She nodded. “Ginny. You know how she likes to make an entrance.”  
            Harry sighed. Yes, he knew. He remembered the last time she’d ‘made an entrance’ quite well.  
            Sure enough, just under an hour later the Weaslet appeared in the tent, alone. And Harry had to admit she looked good. But she would have looked better had she not worn a dress with such a low neckline. After all, she needen’t wear something like that for her family. And there were children present.  
            Draco, almost as if he sensed his husband’s thoughts, leaned in to whisper in his ear. “She wore that for you.”  
            “What?” Harry hissed, feeling Draco’s lips ghosting the shell of his ear.  
            “From what I’ve been told by her brothers, especially Charles, the Weaslet hasn’t been in the best temperment for the past six years.” He smiled, and Harry drew on all of his willpower to keep from shuddering as he felt it, just barely, against his ear. “I would go further and say she has been in a sour mood since she found us on the quidditch pitch in sixth year.  
            Harry’s cheeks burned as he turned suddenly, giving Draco a playful slap on the arm. “Drago,” he hissed. “Not here.”  
            Draco pulled back, a smug smile of self-satisfaction as he read his husband’s face quite easily. Flushed cheeks, wide green eyes dialated. Breaths suddenly short. No doubt his pulse was elevated. He could be sure his words brought the memory of their first time to the forefront of his mind.  
            It would be hard for his husband to keep his mind on more pure an innocent things for the remainder of the evening. Which, if Draco was honest with himself, was a rather selfish act. He knew Harry would became more demonstrative of his affections when he was put into such a state. And had Ginny not have arrived in such a revealing and in his opinion frankly inappropriate state of dress, he would have been perfectly content to have not riled his partner up so.  
            “I assume the fact that she’s been trying to discretely look this way at every opportunity means she’s attempting to make it look as if she’s being polite. But no one leaves the house like that without a reason. Without a specific purpose in mind. She’s been in love with you since she was 11, ergo, she aims to steal your attention away from me.”  
            Harry rolled his eyes, but allowed him to slide an arm around his waist and rest his hand on his opposite hip. “She probably just came from a previous party or something.”  
            “Harry, honestly… You see, but you don’t observe. You never would have survived in Slytherin without the ability to carefuly anylize one’s opponent.”  
            “So I was your enemy then? Well, that’s-“  
            “No. You were my goal. That’s a completely different skill. But the Weaslet, she has always been one of my opponents.” He tightened his hold on Harry’s waist with another smug smile. “She simply fails to understand that the game was over a year before she ever properly met you.”  
            Harry sighed. “I’m a trophy then am I?” He wasn’t annoyed, but he wasn’t amused by the idea either.  
            Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s temple, his tone lowering to a tender sort. “No. But if she tries to do more than wear a fancy dress and flutter her eyelashes at you, I fear you may have to call in more life debts to keep me out of prison.” He kissed again. “Now you go say hello to the trollop while I go fetch our son before he sneaks a piece of cake.”  
            He let his arm slide away, but not before letting his hand fall just low enough to give Harry a discrete, but posessive, pinch on his rear.  
            As Draco turned and walked away, he was quite smug. He knew the entire time Harry would be talking to Ginny Weasley, he would hardly be paying attention to her words. Instead he’d be thinking of his husband pinching his bottom. The former slytherin almost cackled in delight.  
                                                    **o0o**  
            The meal went by relatively well and afterwards everyone just sat around lazily, chatting and laughing. Draco was appalled by some of the host family’s table manners, but he knew not to point it out. Ginny, that devil of a woman, had seated herself directly across the table from Harry, and made every excuse to engage him into conversation. Draco occasionally brushed Harry’s arm with his own. Or gently pressed the sides of their legs together beneath the table. It wasn’t that the man felt threatened. And he was quite discrete, secure in the knowledge that the only person who would notice was the one the display had been meant for.  
            The woman sent venemous glares his way, and Draco just smiled pleasantly and commented on whatever the current topic of discussion was. Currently, it was George’s attempts at a new line of scented joke potions. This topic obviously pulled more of Draco’s attention away than he’d intended, leaving Harry speaking with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione about their various jobs.  
            When they got to Harry, he shrugged. “I’ve got my NEWTs in everything but potions, but I don’t really see myself doing much of anything. Not for a long while at any rate. I’ve got my winzengmont duties and all that, which isn’t much really. I just have to show up a few times a year and when a special session is called, listen to the docket, sit through trials and vote.” He smiled and sipped his drink.  
            Hermione was smiling. “I never thought I’d see the day when Harry Potter settled down to play housewife.”  
            “Well, it’s certainly peaceful. No more running around looking over my shoulder. Even the reporters have started to taper off just a bit.”  
            Ron snorted. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that strange hex placed on all of them, would it?” he asked, knowing the answer already.  
            Harry shrugged, turning when he felt a tug at his sleeve.  
            “Mummy?” the boy asked quietly.  
            This caused a giggle from Hermione, another snort from Ron, and a choked sound coming from Ginny. Harry ignored them. “Scorp, what is it love?”  
            The boy tugged on his sleeve again, a sign for him to lean in closer. When he did, the little boy whispered in his ear. Harry sat back up with a nod. “Okay.” He scooted his chair back from the table a little and opened his arms. The boy climbed right up and settled in, resting his cheek against Harry’s chest.  
            Draco turned, but didn’t say a word. He only raised a brow in silent question. Harry tilted his head and blinked slowly twice. Draco nodded and returned to his conversation with George over thistles and motherwort.  
            Harry wrapped an arm around Scorpius to keep him from falling out of his lap as the boy closed his eyes and started to drift off. Hermione watched in fascination, even as Draco scooted his chair just a bit closer and pulled the boy’s legs into his own lap so they didn’t just dangle off the side of Harry’s. “Poor thing’s tuckered out,” she said.  
            “He gets this way after too much cake. He’ll be right as rain after a little nap. Won’t you little dragon?”  
            Scorpius mumbled sleepily and snuggled closer.  
            Ginny could only watch so as not to cause a scene, shooting angry glares at an amused Draco when she caught his eye.  
————————————————————————

_**An Unwelcome Visitor** _

            Days after the Christmas to-do with the Weasleys, Harry found himself standing in his front door, staring at Ginny Weasley, who by all accounts shouldn’t have been able to get through the wards. Scorpius, who knew he shouldn’t be answering the doors to start with, was pulled back from the entrance. “Go to your room, little dragon.”  
            “But-“  
            “Scorpius Mycroft, you do as I say,” he said firmly, but without raising his voice. “And don’t you come back down until I fetch you.”  
            He looked past Harry, giving Ginny a patented silver Malfoy glare before puffing out his cheeks and stomping up the stairs. Harry remained in the doorway, ignoring the cold air as it came through, and the woman’s pleading face to be allowed in.  
            “Ginevra,” he said.  
            “May I-“  
            “You may not.”  
            “It’s freezing out here Harry-“  
            “I know. It’s far better than you deserve,” he hissed, but was careful not to allow himself to get too terribly angry.  
            She sighed and brushed her red hair from her face, breath rising and curling just a few inches from her face. “Please Harry. I just came to talk.” She reached out to him, but he moved just a few inches back, out of her reach. Her hand fell back to her side. “I thought… When mum told me she’d invited you…”  
            “Ginevra, I’ve told you once, I’ll not tell you again. It could never have worked out.”  
            “You never gave me a chance,” she pleaded.  
            “Because you only saw me as The Boy Who Lived. The famous Harry Potter with the curse scar who defeated Voldemort at 1 year old. The moment you heard about my vaults I could see the galleon signs in your eyes.” He gave the woman a hard stare, doing his best to keep his famous temper from peeking out. “People like you are the reason I left in the first place.”  
            “Is that you talking, or is that Malfoy?” Ginny spat angrily.  
            Harry’s green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he felt a feral rumble begin in the back of his throat. A habit he’d picked up from Remus when he was younger. “Careful what you say next, Weasel, in regards to my husband,” he said, his voice low and thick with challenge. Part of him prayed she’d take the bait. “I don’t think anyone would think twice to challenge me if I decided I didn’t like what I heard.”  
            “H-Harry?! You wouldn’t-“  
            “Wouldn’t I?” he replied, his voice never changing. “The only reason you’re still able to stand is because my son is upstairs.” He gripped the door, taking a deep breath and reminding himself that if he were to act, he’d best not use his wand to do it. It would leave… traces. “I will tell you this only once. When in public, I will be courteous and polite towards you. Around your family, I will continue to do so. But if you dare darken my door or interfere in my personal life again I won’t kill you. I won’t torture you. But your every waking moment will be filled with such horrifying visions of the darkest, most dangerous pits of magic, and in your dreams you’ll be forced to relive every horror, every loss, and every single terrible deed both you and I have ever witnessed. Am I clear, Ginevra?”  
            As he’d been speaking, Ginny’s eyes widened. She brought her hands up to her chest, then her mouth in the near parylizing fear that Harry could, and would do such things. And for a brief moment she could swear she could feel the heat of war again. Hear the screams of her fellow housemates and students during the Battle of Hogwarts. Of her brother Fred as he was… But there was something else there, too. A wild and wrathful beast. A dark beast.  
            “Am I clear?” he repeated, standing up straighter and pulling the magic he’d been directing towards her to make his point away just as suddenly and quickly as he had placed it on her.  
            She swallowed hard, giving a slow nod, unsure of what else she could do. And despite the rather pleasant smile that spead across his face, and the receeding sense of overbearing darkness that seemed to have rolled off him in waves, she was left with a sense of dread.  
            A niggling worry in the back of her mind. A seed of doubt. Harry Potter, she realized, had gone Dark. And there was only one person she knew of with that sort of influence over him.  
            “Have a pleasant evening, Ginevra, and a happy new year,” Harry said, closing the door in her face. He waited until he could hear the tell-tale pop of her disapparition before slumping against the door and releasing a heavy sigh.  
            “That woman will never give up now.”  
            Harry looked up at the stairs to see Draco leaning against the railing at the landing, arms crossed at the wrists and hands dangling down. “I really wish she would. I’d hate to have to follow through with that threat.”  
            Draco’s silver eyes lit up as he chuckled. “She probably thinks I’ve got you cursed or something. Made you into a big bad dark lord.”  
            Harry rolled his eyes and locked the door before climbing the stairs. “How much did you hear?”  
            When the shorter man was beside him on the landing Draco moved to slip his arms around his waist and tilted his head slightly down to look at him. “Enough to know you’re quite frightening when defending my honor. For a moment I thought I was going to have to call in the remainder of your life debts to keep you out of prison.”  
            Harry groaned, pressing his forehead against Draco’s cheek. “That bad?”  
            “Hm… Yes. That sudden pleasantry at the end was a nice touch. You didn’t seem to have lost your sanity at all.” He turned his head to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Now then, first thing’s first. You’re going to explain to Scorpius why it’s not a good idea to open the door without his mummy or daddy standing there with him.” Harry pulled back some, looking up at him, but before he could ask, Draco answered. “I stopped by his bedroom to check on him,” he explained before continueing. “And I’m going to the ward chamber and resetting those things. I don’t want to come home to find you really have gone dark and there’s dead Weasels on my floors.”  
            “Just the one. I wouldn’t dream of getting Ron involved.”  
            Draco gave him another peck on the cheek and gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs leading further up into the house. “Go. I’ve got work to do. I can’t believe she made it all the way to the door.”  
            “I keep telling you we need to replace those ward stones. They’re spotty.”


End file.
